


in hand

by deliciously_devient



Category: overwatch
Genre: BDSM, BDSM AU, M/M, Sub Drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciously_devient/pseuds/deliciously_devient
Summary: Jesse doesn’t kneel for dominants.Hanzo makes him want to.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 1
Kudos: 175





	in hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Target Practice server secret Santa! I hope this is something you like, Skit!!!

It happens so fast that it almost brings Jesse to his knees. 

Almost. 

They’re raiding a secret Talon lab, one where rumors of heinous experiments have been going on for years under Vishkar’s dime. The actual facility is supposedly just a warehouse for the mega corporation but their intel is different. 

Guards had been minimal, and only some in Talon uniforms. The mission had been going well until they met more resistance in the lower levels, culminating in the team facing off against a man holding a sonic weapon not dissimilar to Lucio’s. 

It doesn’t fire sonic bursts, however. 

Jesse is thirty eight years old. He’s been put down before, gone sweet and soft and pliant under a skilled dom’s hands. He’s even done it willingly, once or twice. But this, this is nothing like that. 

He’s dropped into subspace harshly, without warning, without any workup. The world goes soft and hazy at the edges before sharpening tightly. His clothes are too rough against his skin all of a sudden, and he barely resists the urge to kneel. 

He notices the other subs on the team aren’t so lucky; Genji and Zarya have fallen to their knees, and the other doms on the team seem consumed with their sudden need. The scent of sub in distress is sharp and acrid in Jesse’s nose, with the scent of concerned dom a slight relief against it. None of them have their attention on the man who fired the weapon, too consumed with a primal need to care and be cared for. He’s smirking, leisurely reaching for his sidearm, and anger rushes through Jesse’s chest. 

The taste of it is hot on his tongue as he raises his gun; he shoots the weapon first, bringing sharp silence that is more noticeable for the fact that he hadn’t noticed any sound in the first place. Then, without remorse, he puts a bullet in the man’s head. 

The effect of the drop is lessened without the noise, but McCree is still in deep; he can feel it in the way a film of unreality has settled over his vision, the way he can feel his hands shake just slightly. The way he wants to kneel and beg for attention. 

He straightens his spine instead, and viciously shoves down his own instincts with a shake of his head.

“We need to fall back,” he says sharply, firmly, catching the eyes of the near-feral doms surrounding Genji and Zarya. Lucio actually bares his teeth at Jesse before Hana smacks him over the head. Hanzo urges his brother and Zarya to their feet, nodding to Jesse and repeating the order. 

They move out and make it back to the drop ship without incident; they didn’t get nearly as much information as they wanted, but the entire team was too compromised to complete the mission. Jesse just feels lucky that they didn’t run into any heavier resistance when the man fired the weapon. 

Something like that could be used to tear cities apart. 

Jesse settles into the jump seats on the transport, feeling like a live wire. Where before the scent of so many doms had been a comfort in his sudden drop, now all he feels is caged. The ride to Gibraltar is at least two hours, and it’s going to be Hell, McCree knows. 

His skin feels tight, and his clothes are too rough. Jealousy, ugly and terrible, curls in his chest as he watches Genji and Zarya being treated with gentle hands and soothing words, coaxed out of their drops slowly. Lucio and Hana have the two of them well in hand, and McCree wants to beg for some of that attention for himself. He could do it, too; he could crawl over, kneel pretty and ask to be pet the same way Genji is being pet right now. He could be good, could be so good for a little bit of the affection they’re handing out. 

He can’t do that, though, and he knows better. He’s pulled his own self out of drops before, he can pull himself out of this. He just has to sit still, focus on the flight, and then he can escape to his own room when they touch down. 

No one knows he’s a switch, anyway. 

“McCree,” a soft, rich voice asks, and Jesse looks up to see Hanzo has snuck up on him, standing to his side with a frown on his face. “Are you alright?”

“Just peachy, darlin’,” Jesse says with a smile, and while he’s not  _ exactly  _ lying, being dishonest with Hanzo sits poorly in his stomach. They’ve become real good friends the past few months. 

Hanzo’s frown deepens, and he slides into the seat beside Jesse, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“Your hands are shaking,” Hanzo says softly, voice low enough that they’re the only ones that can hear. “Your eyes are dilated and you look pale. You’re suffering from drop. What do you need?”

Hanzo says it so calmly, so succinctly, Jesse finds he doesn’t have any denials at the ready. There’s no judgement in Hanzo’s face, no derision, and Jesse can’t seem to find any objections on his tongue while staring into those rich, chocolate eyes. 

“Little closeness wouldn’t hurt,” he admits, eyes flicking to the rest of the team. They’re still distracted by the subs, but he’s hesitant to get down and kneel the way he wants to, so he’ll take what he can get. 

Especially since Hanzo is offering. 

Following Jesse’s eyes, Hanzo seems to read his mind. He slides a bit closer, discreetly hooking his leg under Jesse’s, his arm behind the other man’s back. From the teams perspective, nothing will seem out of the ordinary with the way Hanzo’s body is angled, but they’re still pressed together shoulder to ankle. 

Jesse feels tension leave his body almost immediately, and he leans his head against Hanzo’s body almost before thinking about it. Hanzo’s hand comes up, fingers running through his hair gently, slowly, and Jesse almost sobs in  _ relief.  _

“ _ Thank you,”  _ he whispers, shuddering slightly. 

“Of course,” Hanzo murmurs. “You’re so very strong. You got us out of that without a scratch, you know. We were all far too distracted, but you stayed focused on the assailant, and saved us.”

The praise makes warmth curve up Jesse’s spine, and he slumped against Hanzo, exhaling softly and letting himself be held. Hanzo’s voice is steady and rich as he continues to speak, his hands soft and sure as he strokes Jesse’s hair. The world narrows, becomes just him and Hanzo, a small bubble that exists only for them. 

Jesse’s knees almost ache with the urge to kneel, and his tongue laps over his lips as he thinks about how he could thank Hanzo. He knows how to be a good sub, he does, and boy does Hanzo make him  _ want  _ to be good. He’s never felt the urge so strongly, even without the drop, to kneel for someone. He’s thought about it, probably more than he should, about offering to kneel for the dom. There have been moments they’ve shared, little  _ almosts _ that have made Jesse want to beg. 

Before he knows it, though, the ship is coming in for a landing, and he extricates himself from Hanzo’s hold before anyone can see just how close they were. He straightens his spine, grabs his hat off the table, and pulls it down over his eyes as they all file off the drop ship. 

“McCree,” Hanzo calls, stopping Jesse before he can slink off to his room to take care of his drop. Mei and Zenyatta are on the launch pad already, fussing over their subs, and everyone else’s attention is pulled away. Hanzo steps close, closer than normal, and he looks into Jesse’s eyes. “Do you...if you need any assistance, with your drop...I would be honored, to help.”

He says it softly, earnestly, and the full force of his concern is shone on Jesse, like a lighthouse guiding him through the fog. His mind tells him  _ yes,  _ ecstatic at the thought of having Hanzo to guide him through a drop. He’s nodding before he’s had the time to really think about it, and Hanzo’s smile is nearly blinding. 

Jesse leads the other man to his room, and that’s about as far as he can go before he has to give in to the overwhelming need that’s been plaguing him since the Talon operative fired his weapon. 

He kneels in front of Hanzo, his knees slapping against the ground with a harsh  _ crack _ , hands behind his back. His spurs dig into his ass, but he arches his back anyway, chest out, shoulders down, just the way he learned. 

“Oh,” Hanzo says, clearly taken aback. “You kneel so pretty,” he says, gently taking Jesse’s hat off his head and placing it on its hook. “Let’s get you comfy, though, shall we? Take off your boots and armor, and I’ll get you a pillow to kneel on.”

The command is a balm, soothing the itch to  _ obey  _ that Jesse has been fighting for hours, and he takes off his boots, armor and outerwear, kneeling on the pillow Hanzo snags off his bed in just his underwear and undershirt. He puts his hands behind his back, and looks up at Hanzo expectantly, shoulders relaxed. This is simple, now; Hanzo is in charge, now, and he doesn’t have to make any decisions or keep himself under control anymore. 

“Beautiful,” Hanzo murmurs, petting his hair gently. “Tell me your color.”

“Green, sir,” Jesse answers, arching into the contact like a lazy cat. 

“Tell me what you want,” Hanzo ordered, his nails scratching Jesse’s scalp  _ just  _ right. 

Jesse has to think about it, for a moment, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. Technically, this is something they should have talked about  _ before  _ Jesse had dropped, but it was too late for that. Jesse would have to think, and trust Hanzo would respect him. 

He had every confidence in the archer. 

“I want...to be good,” he says after a moment. “I want...I want to make you feel good.”

Hanzo’s shrewd eyes stare down at Jesse, and his fingers stay gentle as he brings Jesse’s head closer to his groin. Delighted, Jesse rubs his cheek against Hanzo’s cock through his pants, humming in pleasure as he feels it twitch against his cheek. 

Taking initiative, he takes Hanzo’s belt between his teeth gently, pulling until it comes loose and he can tug the man’s pants down. Hanzo is wearing briefs, solid blue, and they’re easy enough to get down, even with the archers erection. He laps at the head of Hanzo’s cock, taking it into his mouth and sucking slowly, savoring the feel of it on his mouth. 

Hanzo groans, his fingers threading through Jesse’s hair. “God, your mouth is perfect,” he pants, and the praise makes Jesse shudder, take more of Hanzo in. “You’re so good at this.”

Jesse hums, taking Hanzo to the hilt and increasing his pace. The praise doesn’t stop, little groans and moans from Hanzo their own reward in between praise for Jesse skill, the head of his mouth. 

Jesse isn’t sure how much time has passed, but Hanzo is shuddering above him, flooding Jesse mouth with hot, bitter spend, and he does his best to swallow it all down. He isn’t fully successful, but Hanzo’s gentle fingers wipe away the evidence from his beard. 

He’s feeling  _ much  _ more lucid, now, and he smiles tiredly at Hanzo, who kneels down in front of him. 

“Back with me?” Hanzo murmurs, cupping Jesse’s face between his hands. 

“Yeah,” Jesse murmurs, leaning into the touch. “Thank you, for helping out.”

“Of course,” Hanzo murmurs, and his eyes are focused, intent on Jesse as he leans forward and brushes a gentle kiss against Jesse’s lips. “I would do  _ anything,  _ for you,” he asserts, and something in Jesse’s chest twists. It occurs to him that he hasn’t thought to bring his inbound hands up to touch Hanzo at all; he has been safe in the knowledge that Hanzo has him, and he doesn’t need to. 

“How about a nap?” Jesse asks quietly, and the smile Hanzo gives him is brilliant enough to block out the sun. 


End file.
